


Planning

by wintercreek



Series: Singing the Journey 'Verse Moments. [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: Future Fic, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-12
Updated: 2012-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-29 10:23:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/318861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintercreek/pseuds/wintercreek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moments from one year in the future of the <em>Singing the Journey</em> 'verse, September 2020-September 2021.</p><p><em>"It's not fair." Kurt leans on his hand, his body half-folded over the table.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Planning

**Author's Note:**

> Timestamp ficlet for the [Singing the Journey](http://archiveofourown.org/series/11587) 'verse. Takes place in moments from September 2020 to September 2021, three years after the end of _Singing the Journey._
> 
> Thanks to [Les](http://moreorlesme.tumblr.com/) and [fountnofthought](http://fountnofthought.livejournal.com/) for betaing. All remaining mistakes and infelicities are, of course, my own.
> 
> New York State does not, as best as I can determine by internet research, presently allow surrogacy contracts. However, second-parent adoption is an option for same-sex couples in New York. The details of Kurt and Blaine's legal arrangements have been left undefined, particularly as the fic is set in 2020 and 2021 and laws may have changed by then.

"It's not fair." Kurt leans on his hand, his body half-folded over the table.

Blaine raises his eyebrows. "What's not fair?"

"Kids," Kurt sighs. He picks up his coffee mug and stares into it.

"Kids aren't fair?" Blaine considers this. "They are unjustly cute. And also sometimes kind of mean, so I guess those are ways they're not fair."

Kurt huffs. "I mean it's not fair how hard it is for us to have them, and how easy it is for other people. Straight couples don't even have to think about it. They have more kids than they want! They have 'oops' babies!"

Blaine reaches over and pulls Kurt's mug out of his hand before his flailing gestures can smash it on the wall. Their breakfast alcove is tiny, just like the rest of their apartment. "I bet a lot of them think about it, Kurt."

"Do you somehow not remember that TV show? 'I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant?'" Kurt sits back in his chair and folds his arms. "How could you not know?"

Blaine has no answer for that, so he gets up and pours himself more coffee. Kurt's mug he fills halfway; even after he adds the milk, there's still space for sloshing without spilling. There's not too much Blaine can do when his husband's in a mood, but he has techniques for keeping the consequences to their kitchen under control.

Taking the mug with a small nod, Kurt continues, "And it'll be extra work for us, with all the paperwork and home visits or the interviews with surrogates, but you know what the most unfair part is?"

"What?" Blaine tilts his head inquiringly.

"I want a kid who's related to you and me," Kurt says miserably. "A little person with your hair and my eyes, or your voice and my wrists, or something. A kid who's both of us. But there's pretty much no way that's going to happen, is there?"

Blaine exhales heavily. "God, Kurt." He sits down across from Kurt and slides their coffees aside, taking Kurt's hands. "I want that too. I guess I wasn't thinking about it. Because you're right – that's not possible. I want you to know, though, that I do want it."

Kurt squeezes Blaine's hands. "That helps. I'm glad you want it too."

"It's too bad neither one of us has a sister," Blaine says. "That's as close as we could get to having a kid made of the two of us, and then he or she would be related to both you and me."

Kurt arches an eyebrow. "Blaine Anderson. I am not sleeping with your hypothetical sister."

Blaine splutters. "Geez, no! I meant by medical intervention, come on. The way we'd do it with a surrogate." He considers this. "Maybe that's the secret. Maybe we should try to find a surrogate who looks like one of us."

"It's as valid a criterion as any," Kurt says. "I'll add it to the list, along with intelligence, musicality and no troubling family medical history."

"You know, that stuff might not even be genetic anyway," Blaine points out. "Medical history, sure, but intelligence and musicality are at least part environment. We can give a kid those things no matter what."

Kurt sniffs. "We can't give them a genetic predisposition without some deliberate effort. I think it's worth it."

"Okay, okay." Blaine raises his hands placatingly. "But let's keep our eyes open for someone whose appearance matches, too."

That's how it is that two months later, sitting around a cramped table in a wine bar, Blaine notices that their friend Liz's profile is strikingly like Kurt's. They have similar jaw lines, and her cheekbones are just a little sharper than his. Liz doesn't have Kurt's eyes – no one has Kurt's eyes – but her hair is fine-textured and might be Kurt's shade of brown, if it weren't dyed bright red. He's never seen the resemblance before, but tonight with her hair in a bun rather than falling around her face it's obvious.

"Liz," Blaine says, "have you ever noticed that you and Kurt could be cousins?"

Kurt's eyes light up. "Look at me," he commands. He examines Liz's face from every angle while she smiles patiently. "Blaine's right. We do look alike. Have you ever—"

"Kurt, hang on," Blaine breaks in. "We haven't even thought about our actual cousins, you know, or any of the details of ... anything." He trails off, unwilling to give too much away.

"I am not pinning my hopes on a cousin we talk to every five years at best and who lives in another time zone," Kurt says. He picks up his wine glass and downs the contents.

Liz looks inquiringly at him. "Liquid courage, I see. But for what?"

Kurt leans close to her. "Have you ever thought about kids? In the abstract, I mean. Do you want to be pregnant some day?"

"I haven't really thought about it," she says. "Kids aren't all that important to me. I guess I thought I'd have them if my partner wanted them, and since I haven't found someone yet, I've put off considering it. Why?"

"Hey—" Blaine tries one last time. "This isn't really a conversation we should have tipsy."

Liz turns from Kurt to Blaine and back to Kurt again. "Are you propositioning me?" She examines their faces. "You are, aren't you. You guys need a surrogate, and you want to knock me up."

Blaine covers his face with his hands. He's not prepared for this conversation. Still, he looks up again when Kurt answers.

"Yes," Kurt says firmly. "We want someone intelligent and musical, and we know you're both those things. And you look like me, so your egg and Blaine's sperm would be as close as we can probably get to a kid who looks like both of us." He flushes. Blaine can't tell if it's the wine or the frank conversation causing it.

"Huh," Liz sits back in her chair. "Blaine's right. We need to talk about this sober. And I should tell you about my family's medical history before we agree to anything. Not that there's anything dire that I know of."

"You're considering it?" Blaine asks.

Liz nods slowly. "Yeah, I suppose I am. I like you two. I think you'll be great parents. And I like the idea of a little bit of me running around out there. But I am _not_ ready to be a mom. Could I just, you know, carry and birth your child and then become Rockin' Aunt Liz? Give the munchkin noisy toys and sugar before passing it back to you, and maybe take it to rock concerts when it's a teenager?"

"If you stop calling our child 'it,'" Kurt says wryly.

"Shut up, our language sucks for gender neutral pronouns and you know it." Liz sticks her tongue out at Kurt.

They make plans to meet next week for dinner, Liz with her family history, and Kurt with the legal requirements for surrogacy and adoption, and Blaine with a sense of inevitability and a budget. It takes a month of increasingly personal and serious conversations, which somehow move them past nervous and awkward and into confident; three months of Liz off the pill and bitching to them about the inconvenience of menstrual periods that can't be rescheduled; and two visits to the fertility clinic they picked out.

And then, almost seven months after that night in the wine bar and nearly a year from Kurt's breakfast table declaration, Blaine and Kurt are sitting on their couch, holding each other's hands tightly and watching the closed bathroom door.

"This might be creepy for her," Blaine says. "We can't keep doing this. It can take lots of tries to—" He stops talking as the door opens.

Liz steps out of the bathroom, holding out a pregnancy test. "It's positive," she whispers. "Congrats, Dads."

Blaine knows there are still a million things that can go wrong, this early in the process. He's read the books Kurt's brought home from the library, learning the details of the biology alongside the adoption laws they'll have to use to connect the baby to Kurt legally. He's aware that they could be starting over again in two months.

Right now he doesn't care. He throws his arms around Kurt, laughing and crying all at once into Kurt's shoulder. When Kurt stands, Blaine lets himself be pulled along. They wrap Liz in a group hug, both of them thanking her and all three of them teary-eyed.

"Oh," Kurt says. "I have to finish researching! I only have notes and budgets for pregnancy – I don't even know all the things babies need."

"It's okay, we have lots of time," Blaine tells him.

Liz grins. "Yeah, eight months. And Kurt, do you know what you really need to prepare for?"

Kurt blinks at her. "What?"

"You are taking me clothes shopping. I'm letting you radically alter my figure for a while. The least you can do is help me be fashionable," Liz says.

"You can count on that." Kurt steps back to eye Liz. "In fact, I think we'll have to go shopping at least three times."

"I defer to your professional judgment," she answers.

Blaine smiles brightly at them both. "Deferring to Kurt's judgment has never steered me wrong," he says.

Kurt beams at him and kisses his cheek. "And it never will."

"Oh yeah," Liz says fondly. "You are definitely ready to have a kid to embarrass with your mushiness."

"That's the plan," Kurt confirms, and Blaine thinks nothing has ever sounded better.


End file.
